The Hockey Dad Gets What He Deserves

"You took up with that tramp? The worst woman in town?"

"The woman who I always thought was the best in town told me I didn't deserve her. So I thought I'd start on the bottom and work my way up. That way I could find just the right level of partner that I didn't deserve to have a relationship with."

"I guess I deserve that. Bobby, I don't know what I was thinking. I was feeling a bit unsettled, but I was wrong to take it out on you."

"So you came to your senses after you left for your wild party weekend. Good for you! That means you kept your promise?"

"My promise? What promise? I don't understand."

"You know. Your promise. To be mine and mine alone? You know. The wedding vow?"

"Bobby, about that,"

"That sounds like a 'no.' In that case, I'm really not ready to talk to you."

"Bobby we have to talk. And where are you going?

"No, actually Lois, we don't have to talk. And I'm going to bed."

"Perfect. Me too. We can talk in bed. We do our best talking there anyway."

I went up and brushed my teeth and changed to pajamas. When Lois slipped into the bathroom, I slipped down the hall to sleep in the guest room. I heard her looking for me. She asked the girls if I had left. Cindy said no. Terri told her I probably should leave after what she did, but no. She told Lois she had heard me go down the hall to the guest room. Lois knocked. I ignored her. She talked, she cried, she knocked some more. Ear buds are great things. I woke up the next morning, showered, and dressed in clothes I had moved into my new room the night before. I woke the girls, and we snuck out for an early breakfast at the diner.

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The office was abuzz with festival stories, and apparently I was a hot topic. Women kept dropping in to talk, and to lean forward over my desk, and to tease me with cleavage, and...Then Margie Sheppard dropped by.

Apparently Davina had been less than discreet about our date. Margie had heard, and told me she wanted every minute of her Saturday. I was expected at her condo in the city by 7:00 AM, ready to cook breakfast. We would go from there to the Art Museum, where we would spend the morning. She would treat for lunch at her favorite cafe by the museum, and we would spend the afternoon at the matinee performance of a show she had wanted to see for months. And there would be shopping of course. Dinner, and a concert would round out our evening, after which we would return to her place for drinks.

"Of course," she said in a low and sultry voice, "we could spend more time relaxing at my place if you prefer. And you are welcome to stay over Friday and Saturday nights if that makes getting into the city and home again easier. And Bobby, It would be my pleasure to host you for the extra time."

Margie Sheppard, with her big blue eyes, her yellow blonde hair and her perfect hourglass figure was hitting on me. Margie Sheppard the shipping heiress, who drove a Lexus before most of us even had drivers licenses wanted our date to be not only all of Saturday's waking hours, but was requesting Friday night and Sunday morning as well. Margie Sheppard with her silk stocking clad model quality legs, her perfect chest, and that "kiss me" mouth said it would be a pleasure to host me. I could live with that.

"Sounds perfect Margie, except if we are going to be in the city, there's a great little spot I'd like take you to. Since you are offering a place for me to stay Friday night so I can be there early to make your breakfast Saturday, let me take you to dinner at Armando's Friday night."

She actually had the good sense to blush.

"I've heard of Armando's, that sounds nice."

"Good, I'll need some time to prep your breakfast."

"What's so special about your breakfast?"

"Just plain good cooking," I said, "but since I'll be there early to cook, I can serve it to you in bed."

"Mmmmmm...sounds delicious. Telllll mmmmmeeeee," the woman was actually purring by now, "what do you plan to wear when you butter my toast."

"Whatever I slept in."

"And what will you sleep in?"

"If I sleep alone, warm and fuzzy flannels."

"What if you weren't alone?"

"Ladies choice."

It was going to be a marvelous weekend.

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Monday night was cold at home. Ice box cold. I was so mad at how Bobby handled this whole thing. If he had just trusted me and given me a little freedom, I would have gone on my trip, realized how good I had it at home with him, and never strayed again. But he went public with everything, down to my telling him he didn't deserve me. With his involvement in the festival's planning, he was right up there in front of everyone, and often with a pretty woman other than me at his side.

I couldn't believe I had fallen under that asshole Tony's spell and gone away with him on Winter Fest weekend. Of all times! My mom called me. She was furious that the entire town was talking about our family in a not so complimentary way. It seems everyone viewed Bobby as a model husband, and thought we were the perfect couple. Mom stopped short of telling me that she and Daddy liked Bobby better than me, but she certainly made her point.

Kendra grilled me about my actions, and filled me in on Bobby's exploits over Winter Fest. Some sister she was! She set Bobby up in the eligible bachelors auction!

I guess I took Bobby for granted, and damn do I regret the "you don't deserve me" crack. Apparently everyone told him it would be good for his ego to see how eligible he is as a single man. He could find out just how much of a woman he really deserved.

Bobby is as plain and average as they come, at least he was in my eyes. It took this episode to wake me up to see that the guys I went to the beach with aren't close to my Bobby in anything. They look good, but they can't treat a woman well, they eat poorly, they drink rot gut swills, and don't get me started on their bedroom talents. You can't, because they had none. Bobby is in a whole other league. And he is considerate. He always does his share, never eats until he is sure everyone else has what they need, and damn it he makes sure I cum. I haven't cum since my last time with him, and that was over two weeks ago now. Tony convinced me to withhold myself from Bobby so I'd be fresh for him. I deprived my husband of sex in order to have inferior sex with a poser.

Worse yet, Kendra told me Davina had won the date. Davina Crowley. I hate the bitch. Apparently she was the belle of the ball in Bobby's arms Saturday night, and according to the rumors I've heard, Davina is raving about how hot a lover he is. What the fuck have I done? Bobby is so much better than those fucking stoners that used me at the beach. They are the average guys, and my Bobby is really superior! Shit, what did I do? Who knew!? I guess I should have.

Davina apparently isn't the end of it either. Mr. Popular offered a date not only to the winner, but to anyone who would pony up at least $15k to the hospital construction fund drive. Six rich bitches took him up, including Davina. So I have to worry about him dating five more sluts in the next five weeks. I can't get my husband back for myself until April. I can't bear to talk to him, and he hasn't been interested in even seeing me. He is all moved into the guest room, so I guess he doesn't plan to sleep with me. We just avoid each other. Cold. It's just so cold at home.

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Five more dates in the next five weeks. If they were all as vigorous as Davina, I could be dead by then. Lois tried to talk to me after she came home, but I told her I didn't need to hear her. As upset as she was about finding Davina in the house when she arrived, she was livid when Kendra told her about my five additional dates. I didn't have much to say, so I didn't. I avoided her all week. I heard rumors about her weekend. Apparently her companions were pissed at being stranded at the airport. You see Winter Fest had all the cabs occupied, so there were none available to trek out to the little private airstrip where her fuckbuddy's plane was hangared. They were forced to walk into town, and the combination of sunburn, sand blistered feet and lack of sufficient coats back here in the cold were unpleasant to deal with. Still, I wanted nothing to do with the rumors. I didn't deserve to hear rumors about people whose company I didn't deserve. Plus I had an impending date with Margie Sheppard.

Friday night, I arrived to find Margie waiting for me, buck naked. She met me at the door to her 24th floor penthouse with a long deep kiss that left no doubt we were heading for a late seating at Armando's, If any. We devoured each other for an hour, then dressed and went down to her private limo which drove us through the park while I drove my tongue through her pussy, again and again. We arrived at dinner after putting ourselves together in the car, and thoroughly enjoyed a fine dining experience. Armando himself came out to tell me my money wasn't good there, he was an old friend of Margie's family. The ride home featured another long ride through the park, and by the time we retired I was considering calling an EMT to give me intravenous fluids. But once more into the breach, as the bard wrote, or let it be plugged up with our genitals dead. Ok that was a bad paraphrase...really bad...but it's what happened. We both fell asleep with me inside her, and woke with her nether lips clamped on, holding my flaccid cock as it slipped out. I served her breakfast in bed as promised, wearing exactly what I slept in. A smile. She wore me out again, Saturday, then Saturday night, then Sunday morning.

"Come on man, don't you ever get tired!?"

"Of course I do, but not before my woman is satisfied."

"Oh! That's how it is! A point of honor? Some sort of sexual chivalry?"

"Milady," I droned as I bowed deeply, "my sword is at your disposal."

And it was.

I got home in the wee hours of Monday morning, totally drained. Somehow I managed to get to work and a varsity game the next day. The girls each scored twice. I didn't make it to the dinner table though, and it was a shame. Lois made my favorite dish. Alas, how rude of me. I certainly didn't deserve her. After Davina and Margie, I not only didn't deserve her, Ididn't even miss her.

I managed to avoid Lois until Thursday night. She stayed up to catch me after the girls away game in Sunset Lakes. We got back pretty late, but Lois was waiting. After the girls scampered off to bed, Lois turned her attention on me.

"We need to talk. I was wrong. So wrong. But how long do you intend to punish me?"

I was tempted to go off to bed without responding. Leaving that question hanging would be a brilliant non-answer. However, I wasn't in a mood to be quite that cruel.

"Lois, I've got nothing to punish. You have a right to feel the way you feel. I can't stop that. All I can do is live my life my way. You really dropped a bomb on me you know. I never knew you were unhappy. I would have done something different. I would have done anything, changed anything...everything to make you happy. I never got a chance. That changed everything for me. Everything. My whole life is different now. I have to question everything I once took for granted. So as punishments go, I don't mean anything to be punishment. I don't deserve you, remember?"

"Bobby, that was wrong of me. If you only knew..."

"But I didn't know. And the more that idea of suddenly "not deserving you" resonated with me, the more I needed to go out and find out why. But I couldn't do it with you. I couldn't just ask. You went from happy to doling out "or else" mandates in the blink of an eye. I didn't know. I just didn't know...you anymore. I'm not sure I know me anymore. So, I'm going to look for a while. How long? I don't know. Until this makes sense, I guess."

The fire went right out of Lois. The determined look she met me with was gone. The look replacing it was complicated. There was pain. Loneliness. Even horror, maybe. I had no desire to study her and pin it down. So I went to bed. She had nothing else to say.

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I had no idea. I knew Bobby would object to my experiment. But I had no idea it would cut this deeply. Bobby is so easy going. I was sure he loved me enough that he wouldn't want our marriage to die. I thought I could strong arm him enough that it would take him off balance until I could come back like the returning hero, taking him back mercifully. I thought by depriving him of me for a weekend, I could actually have a bit of freedom and actually strengthen our marriage. But the reality was right in front of my fucking blind eyes. I couldn't come out and just ask Bobby to let me party with the sales team. I couldn't even just tell him I was doing it and would make it up to him later. No. I put him down. I told him he didn't deserve me, so I was going to try someone who did. I was going to deprive him of me. And it turns out I deprived myself of him. The pain I just saw in my love struck my very core. I would,have thought myself heartless, but for the fact that I could feel my heart, and it was breaking. Painfully.

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I wasn't much fun for Irene Sheppard at first. She certainly wasn't her daughter. Margie had been "in-your-face" aggressive. Her mom was elegant, and tasted our time like a connoisseur sampling a fine wine. Dinner was elegant, followed by a private box at the theatre. She had a limo too, and wasn't afraid to use it. But we didn't fuck in the back seat. We talked. It didn't take her long to get to the bottom of my subdued mood, and as soon as she did, she lowered the privacy screen, and asked her driver to take us out to her home on the Island. In the two hour drive to her sumptuous mansion in the Hamptons she dissected my relationship with Lois, and had decided Lois' personality shift and uneasiness in our relationship was a combination of a hormonal shift and the rapidly approach of those late in life issues like retirement, the girls growing up, an aging body and menopause. We actually spent a lovely evening, and a pleasant weekend, but there was no sex.

"I'm sorry Bobby," she told me Saturday morning, "but as much as I'd like to take you to bed and enrich you with the benefits of making love with an experienced woman, I don't want to complicate your situation at home."

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Bobby didn't come home after his date with Irene Sheppard. He sent a text saying he was going to stay someplace near work for a few days. There were no new rumors this week following his date with Irene. Margie and Davina had cranked up the gossip mill to capacity after their dates. I began hearing wild tales of my hung husband being an inexhaustible dynamo in bed. I had no idea he was hung. He always called himself average, even small. Margie had told Kelli Riley, a future auction date, that Bobby had an anaconda between his legs. Of course, there were jokes circulating about me telling my anaconda wielding husband of over a quarter century that he didn't deserve me, just to go party with three limp dicked stoners. Apparently Tony, Fred and Doug have reputations too. As losers. What is it the saying about 20/20 hindsight? Sure. Deprive Bobby of your company for a weekend. Why not pick Winter Fest weekend? Why not leave Bobby in the public eye with an open invitation for the richest and sexiest women in town to "take my husband, please." Why not run off with three doped up losers to spend a weekend in a shack on a beach full of jellyfish with no food, for a weekend long orgy that didn't produce a single orgasm. I was an easy target for jokes. Too easy. I was the joke.

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Kelly Riley was a hard dancing, whiskey drinking fiery redhead. We met for dinner, which consisted mostly of Old Bushmills for Kelly, and then it was on to every bar, club and tavern in a 30 mile radius to sample the live bands spicing up our winter. Seemingly tireless on the dance circuit, the whisky caught up with Kelly on the ride home, and I wound up carrying her up to her bed. I slept on the couch. I made breakfast the next morning as promised, but Kelly slept so soundly I couldn't wake her to eat. She was still sleeping soundly by noon, so I quietly took my leave and stopped for lunch at a Diner. That's where I ran into Juanita Moore, who decided since we were both free, we might as well move our date up a couple of weeks.

It was good Kelly danced me out and then fell asleep, because Juanita was a challenge. Juanita is a body builder, who can easily bench press me. Seriously, she did. Her idea of a hot date was pursuing her man and conquering him physically. Believe me I was no match. No I find a strong, fat free body very sexy on a woman, but when foreplay is a series of wrestling moves, sexy becomes scary. I had no choice in how or when my clothes came off. I had no choice but to wrestle her naked on her living floor. Well I guess I did have a choice, but the option of death by headlock was not attractive. She finally managed to somehow wrap me up in her limbs, get me hard, and slip me into her oozing cunt. I can't say it was the best sex I ever had, but it was interesting.

The following Friday I was the guest of Miss Donna DiNorio. Donna was a dark haired, dark eyed, olive skinned beauty, and made for love. She oozed sexuality from the sway of her hips as she walked to the swell of her breasts beneath her low cut blouse. She was a classic Italian mother in the making. She cooked a big meal, and pampered me beyond belief. She was very clingy, to the point that I felt suffocated after making love. I was trying to think of a way to tell her this was only going to be a one time deal when she says "this was fun, but you're too old. Can we still date though? You older guys really know how to treat a girl, and how to make love." Glad us "old guys" are good for something. She gave me her number, but I'm not inclined to use it.

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He finished. I've been on pins and needles while he finishes those auction dates. It took so long! The snow has all melted and Winterfest is a distant memory for most folks. Not for me. I missed it. I missed the best weekend of the year for the worst party I ever went to. Shit, I didn't go to a party, I was the party. No one cared about me being there, just my warm body. I've become a pariah in the community now. Friends avoid me. Rivals make a point of being close to watch me suffer. I feel so low. The worst part is, before I let loose this incredible brain fart, I told my husband he was beneath me and out of my league. After feeling what those assholes I took for lovers had to offer, I know my Bobby is the definitive major league lover. But he is done with his auction fucks. He went out with that slut Kelly, and from what I hear they dirty danced their way through every juke joint in the county on their way to a night of wild sex. The very next night he seduced the most butch Amazon woman I know, and once they disappeared into her bed, she probably treated him to physical feats my body just can't do.

So how do I compete? He has tasted the exotic, the wild, the sophisticated, and apparently, has the run of the town. I may have made a serious is judgement when I told him I was out of his league. It seems he can fit into any league he chooses. Shit. I thought I could guilt him into letting me play this one time. I thought threatening him with a raping divorce would stall him, and I could play a bit then make it up to him. Instead, he is paying attention to everything with a pussy except me. To make matters worse, I don't know how long my body will still qualify as hot, and I'm back to competing for Bobby's affections, the very love I once had all to myself. I wanted a last fling before I lost my mojo and got old. Now, my last fling may have shattered my sure thing, which was such a good thing, my marriage to Bobby.

I won't give up, I can compete. I can win. I know him. I know everything he likes, and more importantly what he doesn't like. I also can call on all those warm and fuzzy moments from our history. I can do this, but I need to start today. And I need to start with the girls. He loves his girls. He didn't fight my fling because I threatened his time with his daughters. How can I use that? I need them. I need them on my side.